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SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



BY ELSA BARKER 

THE SON OF MARY BETHEL 

THE FROZEN GRAIL 

THE BOOK OF LOVE 

STORIES OF THE NEW TESTAMENT FOR CHILDREN 

THE SCAB 

LETTERS FROM A LIVING DEAD MAN 

WAR LETTERS FROM THE LIVING DEAD MAN 

SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



WRITTEN DOWN 

BY 

ELSA BARKER 



NEW YORK 

MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

1916 



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COPYRIGHT 1916 BY 
MITCHELL KENNERLEY 



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JUN 20 1916 

PRINTED IN AMERICA 
©CI.A433440 



FOREWORD 

It would not be quite honest for me to include the 
following Songs of a Vagrom Angel among my books of 
verse without a prefatory note — because they are really 
not mine at all. 

While writing the Letters From a Living Dead Man, 
at the " automatic " dictation of my old friend Judge 
David P. Hatch, I became very well acquainted with 
the personality of that angel, deva or sylph, who acted 
as his courier in the invisible worlds. He called it the 
Beautiful Being, but I call it the Vagrom Angel. It 
always refused to name itself. 

As a little girl I used to read in the Bible how angels 
visited the prophets of Israel. The idea appealed to my 
imagination. When I asked my mother why angels did 
not visit me, she did not reply as most mothers would, 

Such things do not happen in our day;" she said, 
u Perhaps they do — only you cannot see them." 

So I used to go out into the old apple-orchard north 
of the house at twilight, and seating myself under a tree, 
look fixedly at the sky above the mountains and try to 
see angels. Though I could not see any, I felt sure that 
it was not the angels' fault, but mine. 



FOREWORD 

Had it not been for the faith of that little girl and 
her mother up there among the New England hills, per- 
haps I should not have listened to the angel who came 
to me through the fogs of London one day years after- 
ward, and spoke these songs into my ear, while I wrote 
them down as fast as my pencil could fly over the paper. 

The Vagrom Angel came at eight o'clock one March 
morning and stayed with me until six the following morn- 
ing — twenty-two hours, during which the whole of this 
book was written down, save three of the songs which 
were given later and in the same way. Of course I did 
not waste any of those hours in sleep — the Vagrom Angel 
would not let me. 

If some sceptical critic enters by this door which I have 
thus left wide open, and says that anybody could write 
forty-nine songs like those of the Vagrom Angel in twen- 
ty-two hours, I should reply that perhaps he could, but 
should continue to doubt my own ability. 

I had not thought about publishing these songs, sup- 
posing they were meant only for me (like other strange 
writings I have) ; but one day in a mood of confidence 
I read them to a well-known poet, who is also one of 
the dragons of literary criticism, and he said that they 
must be published, adding with a smile that they were 
better than my own poems. 

I should like the reader to understand that I am seri- 
ous in what I say; but the personality of this being — 



FOREWORD 

deva, sylph, angel, or whatever it may be — is so full of 
joy, so childlike yet so wise, so playful in its profundity, 
and altogether so unlike any other influence I ever came 
in contact with, that even in writing about it I uncon- 
sciously fall into its mood, as one laughs with a joyous 
visitor or is grave with a sad one. 

Each of these songs, is a lyric unit, hung as by a thread 
from a different idea. No, I could hardly write forty- 
nine lyrics in one day, whether in " free verse " or any 
other form. 

But that is no matter, and I only tell about the angel 
because it seems truer to do so. My statement adds no 
value to the songs; it merely explains them. 

Elsa Barker. 

Christmas Day, 19 15. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

I 

I HAVE never given my soul to the keeping of an 
earthly body, 
And so I can sing at all times and seasons. 
If I choose one time in preference to another, that is the 

privilege of caprice. 
All along the roads of the fourth dimension are messen- 
gers watching for me; 
When my voice is heard they hasten to call their lords. 
I have sung in courts and camps, at the bivouac of the 

unborn, and in the hearts of men and angels. 
Whatever room I choose as a concert-chamber is soon 

hung with arras. 
Once I sang in a pine-grove, and the trees all shed their 

needles with regret that I went away. 
When I come to sing in your chamber, leave a crack of 

the window open, 
That I may go and leave you when you want me most 

to stay. 



4 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

II 

GOD walked one night from end to end of the Milky 
Way; 

•He was looking for something that He could not find. 

I could have told Him where to find it; 

But being so simple in most ways, I am like a child who 
joys to have a secret from its father, 

And so I held my peace. 

What think you that God went seeking in all the shops 
along the great White Road? 

Was it a jewel of rich price, in a ring of cunning work- 
manship, which should gleam on His finger up- 
held in admonition of the archangels when they 
were slow in their world-building? 

Nay, dear, God sought not a stone. 

But someone had told him of a gay and vagabond angel, 
who enjoyed the freedom of space and companion- 
ship with all things, yet desired not rule and 
power. 

Yea, God was looking for me, to make me Lord of a 
planet ; 

But I hid myself in the floating hair of an outbound 
comet, and held my breath and smiled. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 5 

III 

SWEET is the oblivion of sleep; 
But sweeter far is the sleep beyond oblivion, 

where I wait in the shades that are cast by no 

form. 
When you weep you deaden the sound of my voice, which 

never rises above a whisper, 
And the faintest whispering of your heart can reach me, 
Though I am far, far off. 
Is not the world fair? 
It is one of many worlds, and each is fairer than the 

one behind it. 
The last one of all . . . 
But why should I blind you with beauty? 
When the clock ticks it is calling you to something? 
Can you guess what? 

When the sun rises it is lighting your way to somewhere. 
Why do you not rise and seek the place? 



6 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

IV 

X SAT at the door of my house and I heard a foot- 

-■■ step passing in the darkness. % 

It was long ago, but I have wondered all these years who 

passed me on the road that night. 
Maybe it was one whom I had long sought. 
Maybe it was one whom now I shall never find. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



T\ If Y friendship is unlike that of Summer, for I have no 

«*•*■*■ times and seasons; 

Would you know when I am coming, you must learn the 
arithmetic of the mood. 

Freedom is a bird of many feathers; 

It may let one flutter down sometimes in the kitchen- 
gardens of the world, 

But the bird rests not upon any branch that grows near 
the ground. 

There was once a wandering minstrel who aspired to 
put salt on its tail, 

But he disappeared one day and was never found again. 

Perhaps he is singing on the other side of the rainbow, 

For I heard an unfamiliar strain last night in the chorus 
of the spectrum. 

He who follows freedom leaves even his own songs be- 
hind. 



8 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

VI 

I WAITED by a stream of green water that ran 
through a sandy desert. 

A traveller asked what I waited for, but I could not an- 
swer him. 

Surely one may wait, without waiting for some thing! 

Must even peace have a purpose? 

It was quiet beside the green water; the palm-trees 
waved in the distance, for the wind was rising. 

The traveller passed on, but his question remained with 
me. 

What was I waiting for ? I really yearned to know. 

When one is happy it is foolish to listen to the idle ques- 
tions of over-busy strangers. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 9 

VII 

ONE night God whispered a secret in my ear. 
I knew it wa9 a secret because I longed to tell it ; 

Thus may we always know how valuable is a thought. 

We treasure the worthless pebbles and scatter the jewels 
on the highway; 

Such is the wisdom of the world! 

Would you know a way to make all men seek you ? 

Wear a veil! 

If you have something to give — throw it out of the win- 
dow; 

The one who needs it will come along with eyes bent on 
the ground. 

If you desire something of real value — tell no one. 

You will find it maybe when the eyes of Destiny are 
turned the other way. 



io SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

VIII 
T WOULD give the rose at my girdle could I find a 

•"- friend who would never seek to hold me! 

A flower is my fairest jewel, and he who could bring me 

such a friend would value the rose at its worth. 
I fly from love as the dew flies from the noonday, for it 

would burn me up; 
Yet my heart is tender as the pollen of a water-lily, and 

I shed its fragrance on the air of many planets. 
It is sweet to come and go. 
To come and not go would be bitter. 
To go and not come would not be bitter at all. 
Have you ever seen a humming-bird at his courtship? 
To meet and part is the ritual of enduring joy. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL n 

IX 

I WILL give you a charm against sorrow : smile at the 
kisses of Pain. 

She is a sensitive lover and likes not to be flouted. 

I could give you a spell for absence, to bring a loved one 
to you; 

But I refrain, fearing you might love me. 

I have love-philtres in one of my solar cupboards. 

Should you put one of my powders in an angel's cup, you 
would dream you had found your counterpart be- 
hind the grating of eternity, and seek to tear it 
down. 

The peddler of love-philtres is more dangerous than 
Lucifer, who also was a light-bearer. 



12 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



LITTLE one, do you not hear my answer in the call 
of the mournful wind? 

I have watched at your window when the raindrops beat 
upon it; 

You knew not I was there, though you were aware of 
the rain. 

I have whispered to you in the perfume of a rose; 

But the flower soon faded and was like me forgotten. 

It is a long road that leads to eternity, and the inns for 
travellers are few. 

I would slake my thirst sometimes at the wells of old re- 
membrance ; 

But the water is so deep I fear to fall therein. 

When the sun shines I can see my face reflected — Oh, 
many feet below! 

But when the darkness comes, I wander on alone. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 13 



XI 

THERE are thirteen stars in one of the constellations, 
there are nine stars in another, but the lesser one is 
equally complete. 

Why yearn for another's number on the record-book of 
heaven ? 

Thirteen has been called unlucky, and nine was the num- 
ber of the muses. 

Dweller of earth, do you know your constellation? 

Do you know the number of it? 

The worlds are made in groups, and so are the souls of 
men; 

And for every visible world there is a world invisible bear- 
ing the same number. 

That is why, when I am at home, I rest in your constella- 
tion. 

Did you take me for an alien because I walk the sky? 



i 4 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XII 

T LAUGH when you ask me my name. 

**■ A name is a limitation, and I refuse to be limited. 

If you call me the light-bringer, there are others who 
bring lights; 

If you call me the cup-bearer, it will have a well-worn 
meaning, and I like fresh metaphors; 

If you call me the Unknown, I shall not prove you un- 
truthful, for you will never know me. 

But the Unknown is no name, 

And the secret word of God is never spoken. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 15 

XIII 

TRUST me, and I will lead you to the garden where 
the rose blooms; 
Follow me, and your feet shall press the golden sands of 

the timeless shore; 
Smile at me, and I will teach you the lore of smiles and 

tears — of tears as fair as smiles. 
Are you lonely in the world where the rivers flow to a 

full sea? 
Are you tired on the path that leads everywhere? 
I am never lonely and I am never weary ; 
Going with me you see strange places. 
When the light shines too brightly you close your eyes; 
It is well, for the brightest light is in the darkness. 
When it rains you cover your head ; 
But no cloak can protect you from the drops of rain that 

are my caresses. 
When the wind howls at night you nestle deeper among 

the pillows; 
But the wind has a message for you which the smothering 

feathers will deaden. 
I ride upon the wind and I walk upon the moonbeams. 
Do not draw your curtains too close, or I cannot shine 

upon you. 



16 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XIV 

T AST night I heard two lovers plighting troth. 

-■— ' One said, " If you cease to love me I shall die! " 

The other said, " I would gladly die for you ! " 

Then I went away smiling, to play myself at love with 

the spirit of a great planet. 
We gazid in each other's eyes, and one of us said, " You 

cannot cease to love me so long as charm has a 

meaning." 
And the other said, " I would gladly live a million years 

longer for the joy of being with you." 
Immortal love is fearless, and leaves the key of its door 

on the outside; 
If one should turn the key, it can escape by the window ; 
If a god comes strolling by, he sees the key and enters, 
For it is a well-known sign among the star-people. 
The mortal love is fearful and always talks of eternity — 
Trying to drown the voice of its own doubt. 
It would lock up everything — being itself a thief! 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 17 

XV 

WHY does your soul sing when the noise of the street 
is silent? 

Why are the birds still when the stars begin their chant- 
ing? 

I have followed Silence from the belt of Orion to 
Berenice's curls — then lost it in the laughter of 
my soul. 

I am often merry at the jests of the constellations. 

Did you fancy that the stars were always serious? 

Only the dull never laugh, and the stars are very bright. 



18 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XVI 

A S you slept last night I breathed upon your pillow. 

•* *• Had I breathed upon your face, you would have 
started up awake. 

Does it seem to you strange that you seldom remember at 
dawn the journeys your soul made at midnight? 

Yes, it is strange. 

One night you danced with me in a garland of glad 
spirits ; 

But you left us ere the eastern sky grew rosy. 

Why do you leave so early? Do you fear the rose-col- 
oured sky? 

Some morning I shall hold you here till the sun is high 
in the heavens; 

You will fear to go back by daylight, and so will wait for 
the evening; 

But when the evening comes, you will have forgotten the 
way back. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 19 

XVII 

THERE was a rumour in heaven that God was weary 
of world-building. 

The angels smiled, "There are surely worlds enough!" 

But one of them said, " He must make one more, for the 
pattern is incomplete." 

We wondered how he should know of this lack in the 
infinite completion, 

And when we questioned him curiously, the angel an- 
swered us: 

" God built in his strength a crore of worlds, and He 
builds one now in his weariness ; 

Its name shall rhyme with mirth." 

And when Space was brought to bed with this last child 
of her middle-age, the midwives muttered together : 

11 The child is marked with its mother's longing for the 
strawberries of desire ! " 



ao SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XVIII 

WHY do you gaze in the fire when you are not 
chilly? 
Why do you talk most when your brain is void of 

thought ? 
There is something in each man that seeks the opposing 

current ; 
If you fly to the farthest pole — you will wish yourself 

at home. 
The child would be a man, and the man thinks longingly 

of his childhood; 
But there is one stage of the journey where content is 

found. 
If you can pitch your tent there you will become immor- 
tal. 
There is a lake in that wilderness where blooms the lotus 

of sweet odours; 
The bees go mad with its fragrance, 
But they fear their own reflection in the water, and so 

remain on shore. 
If you would be always drunken, do not empty the cup. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 21 

XIX 

ONE day as I wandered hand in hand with Time I 
saw a small boat moored by a pebbly shore. 

Time, which likes not rest, would have hurried on; but I 
paused and he waited with me. 

I know that I am a charmer, for when I wait Time always 
stands still. 

I wondered who had moored the little boat by the pebbly 
shore. 

" I will wait till the owner comes," I said ; for a century 
is nothing to me, and curiosity is a thirst that must 
be quenched. 

I bade Time leave me — lest he should go of his own ac- 
cord and I should doubt my charm. 

Seven years I waited at the mooring-place of the little 
boat ; 

It was thus I learned patience, and the mystery of medi- 
tation. 

When the owner of the boat came down to the shore and 
loosed the moorings, I gave him the jewel that 
shone on my forehead and called him " Master." 

He took the jewel, but said, " I am only a slave! " 

Why should I contradict him? 

What matter by whose delay we learn the mysteries of 
patience and meditation? 



22 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XX 

f HAVE pitched my tent in the field of a stranger, but 

* I did not eat his bread; 

The wine of immortality I carry with me, and so am never 
thirsty. 

An angel can long subsist on its own substance. 

When you find that bread is nourishing, be sure that the 
host is a friend; 

If it sticks in your throat, it is time to bind on your 
sandals and take to the road again. 

To sleep beneath the stars is no hardship; 

Do not the roses the same and the pure-skirted water- 
lilies ? 

The hospitality of the universe is famous among the 
comets ; 

There is always an extra plate for the late-comer and a 
flower for his buttonhole. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 23 

XXI 

I LOVED a soul in the invisible; 
But the soul had slept for a thousand years and knew 
me not. 
Ah, the joy of loving a sleeping thing! All true lovers 

know that wonder. 
Sleep is a great magician. 

His spells are woven in the darkness between the worlds ; 
His philtres are made of herbs that grow by the great 

river of forgetfulness which flows by the throne 

of the All-knowing. 
Could I be weary of anything, I should be weary of 

knowledge ! 
So many souls have responded to my lightest call! 
It rests me to hang in adoration above an unconscious 

sleeper. 
Some day that soul will awake; 
But when I see the flickering of its eyelids, I shall run 

away with my garment held high lest it impede 

the swiftness of my footsteps. 
So shall I make that soul a poet. 
It will vaguely know that somewhere it has been loved by 

an angel, 
And the dumb yearning to re-find that love will inspire 

immortal songs. 



24 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXII 

MY lamp flickered in the wind, and I knew that a 
storm was coming. 

I do not fear a storm, but I would not have my lamp 
blown out, 

So I hid me in the shelter of a poet's tent. 

Even a storm is a blessing in disguise ; 

The well-wishers often wear veils and go with bent heads. 

The sunshine is a friend, but sometimes he remains too 
long and the host is weary; 

The darkness of sorrow is restful, it prepares one for an- 
other day of gladness. 

I thought of these things as I waited in the shelter of the 
poet's tent; 

And while I thought, he took up his harp and sang. 

Did he know that I was there? Was he singing to en- 
tertain me? 

I will sing in my turn when he is silent; 

If he knew that secret, he would cease in the midst of a 
song. 

His ignorance is like fresh water in my throat, for my 
evening meal was salt with too much knowledge. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 25 

XXIII 

UNGRATEFUL one! You complain of weariness, 
while I stand in your presence singing! 
There are those who would wait long in the hope that I 

would give them even one of my songs, 
And I have given you a score! 
But truly it is well that you know not the honour which 

comes unbidden upon you; 
Should your heart swell up with pride, I could not sing 

for you. 
I delight in little children who strike at me in play, 
Who call me bad names and turn their backs upon me. 
When men bow low at my feet, I always am not there. 
God lets me wander at will through the rose-gardens of 

His palace; 
Only one command He lays upon me — if I see a courtier 

coming, I am to lower my veil. 
There is an old gardener in the celestial estate who is my 

best friend. 
He talks to me of the way flowers grow, and how the 

water feeds them; 
He knows the mystery of perfumes and the lore of winds. 
I need not veil my face in his presence, for he is blind ; 
He gazed upon God one day and his eyes were smitten 

with glory. 



26 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

To him I am only a harmless child, with a love for trees 

and flowers. 
I feel at home in his presence. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 27 

XXIV 

A LOVER is an inspiration, but who loves better than 
1? 

If I came to the whole world as I come to you, trade and 

travel would cease, and song would become the 

only business of the world. 
That is why I am niggardly with my love and bestow it 

on few; 
For I would not disturb the business of trade and travel. 
An inspiration is something breathed in. 
At the expiration of my fancy for you, you will not sing 

like this any more. 



28 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



XXV 

I HUNGER for a seat at the tables of earth, but I will 
not eat your fare. 
I love to create, but I leave my creations for others to 

enjoy. 
I love to love, but I know not jealousy. 
If you find another fairer than I, I shall weary of you and 

go love him, 
So beware, if you would hold me! 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 29 

XXVI 

WHY do you not ask favours from me? In certain 
moods I would grant them. 
I have the ear of those who could give you whatever you 

want; 
But I am too wise to bring you anything you might place 

between you and me. 
I would not give you a crown, for its weight might deaden 

your hearing, 
And I speak only in a whisper. 
I would not give you burdensome treasure, for you might 

think of it, 
And I would have you occupied only with me and my 

songs. 
Perhaps you are wiser to ask naught. 
When mortals have my friendship, what other things can 

they need? 



30 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXVII 

IF you are weary you can rest to-morrow; 
Your weariness will not affect my singing. 

If you should keep me waiting, I might go and never re- 
turn. 

The Saviours of mankind may wait on a beggar's pleas- 
ure, but I am not sent to redeem the world. 

I come to the world because I enjoy my visits. 

I would not wait in the ante-chamber of a King; 

But many a King has shut himself up with me, denying 
the calls of the world. 

I beckoned one King from the other side of the planet, 

And he followed my voice as a lambkin follows its 
mother. 

He was a wise Monarch and gave his people freedom — 

Thereby securing it himself, that he might play with me. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 31 

XXVIII 

V7"OU complain that you can never know me, but do 
-"- you know yourself? 

If I chose I could tell you a story that would open the 
ears of your memory ! 

You think so much of the future that you forget the past. 

Some day you will forget me, when the walls of another 
birth are built around your spirit; 

But I warn you now that I shall insert the knife of my in- 
sinuating presence between the bricks of every fu- 
ture house that your soul builds. 

When you feel the wind that blows through the crevice, 
you will shiver with delicious cold, 

And I shall stand outside the pierced wall and laugh to 
myself in the rain. 



32 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXIX 

THERE is a story going the rounds of heaven that a 
man of earth who would make himself a god, 
borrowed a flower from my hair and set it upon 
his forehead. 
No, dear, it was not a rose, but a lovelier blossom that 
never ventures to show itself in the inclement 
weather of earth. 
He became quite bold, this borrower, and even jested with 

time, about the death of mortals. 
Some day I shall lie in wait for him at the corner where 

the wind of the west crosses the north wind, 
And when he is looking the other way, I shall snatch the 

flower from his head. 
Then Time and I will have our little jest together about 
the death of mortals. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 33 

XXX 

X/'OU need not be a prisoner in that cell of clay. 
* Every night I remove the bars of your prison win- 
dow, and you could fly away if you only had 
the courage. 

There are wings on the shoulders of all men, 

But being invisible the wings are never spread. 

They are stronger than iron though lighter than thistle- 
down ; 

They can carry a weight as heavy as the eternal part of 
a soul. 

If you should ever spread those wings you would know 
how I love freedom, 

And chase it around the mulberry-bush whereon the stars 
all grow. 

The wings are behind you and you never see them: so 
also is the past. 

Do you guess my meaning, daughter of earth? 

He who remembers, sees; and he who sees, can fly. 

But you remain a prisoner in the cell of clay ! 



34 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXXI 

THERE is a sore spot in the heart of Truth, and no 
balm can ever heal it. 
One day I met with Truth on a lonely road and offered 

my sympathy, for I am a great healer ; 
But Truth smiled sadly and shook his head. 
" So long as men fear me," he said, " how can I be com- 
forted by even an angel's hand ? " 
" But the sore in thy heart is grievous," I breathed, " and 

blood drops stain the ground at thy feet. 
Maybe I can heal thee, friend." 
" Wert thou really a friend of mine," said Truth, " thou 

wouldst tell thine earthly singer to acknowledge 

the debt that is owing thee ; 
Then perhaps there would be one blood drop less to 

stain the ground at my feet." 
So I came to wonder if I were greater or less than Truth ; 
For I had not dreamed before that a mortal could owe me 

anything. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 35 

XXXII 

BESIDES the blind gardener who waters the flowers 
in God's garden, 
I have another friend and his name is Poverty. 
I know he is no friend of yours, for I have heard you 

say so, but him do I love well. 
He walks beside me on the long roads of the universe, 

and we two are free as birds before their nest- 
building. 
But Wealth is my enemy ; he is the only one who can bar 

a door in my face. 
The poor will always let me in — though they are too 

dull with hunger to enjoy the subtlety of my wit; 
The weary let me in — but they always mistake me for 

Sleep, who wears a cloak of the same colour as 

mine ; 
The sorrowful cry to me — but they call me by a prouder 

name than I desire to bear, and being a modest one 

I cannot answer their prayers. 
But the wealthy rarely unbar the door, they take me for 

a thief. 
In that they are very cunning, for I would pilfer their 

pride and leave them only bliss; 
And that is no shield against beggars and borrowers. 



36 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXXIII 

ONE day you entertained an angel unawares. 
It was not I, but my brother Joy-in-Grief. 

You laughed at pain and the laugh became a jewel; 

I shall pin it on your breast when you come to play in 
my garden at the close of the Solar Day. 

Now Joy-in-Grief is called by many names, and some are 
beautiful ; 

The angels call him Mastership, 

The demons call him the Impregnable, 

The children call him Mother's Arms, 

And old men call him Death. 

They are all deceived except the angels, who see things 
as they are ; 

That is why they so rarely come down to dwell among 
blinded men. 

He who thrills with pleasure at the touch of pain still 
knows the difference between pain and pleasure; 

But he calls them the two poles of the magnet of sensa- 
tion. 

Let him guard well the magnet in his cupboard and turn 
the key upon it! 

Then will it draw to his house all the glory of the king- 
doms of this world ; 

But in heaven it will be worthless as a pebble. 

Can you guess why? 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 37 

XXXIV 

If SAW an outcast with a tattered garment go by one day 
■■■ on a treeless road. 

" How great," I said, " are the differences in this mad 
world whose headlight is the moon ! 

I will speak to the Lord about it." 
At twilight I saw the outcast again ; 

He was sitting under a public tree with his back against 

the wall of another man's garden. 
" Poor lonely one! " I said to him. " Can I not give you 

something? " 

II You are giving me a priceless thing," he smiled, " and 

that is your sympathy. 
What may I give you in return? 
Shall it be the joy of my freedom? 
My fellowship with the sparrows who eat with me from 

God's hand? 
A song of my orchestra — the crickets of evening ? 
A page from the book of wonder that I open each night 

in dreams? 
Or the mystery of the love of God that fills my soul 

with rapture ? " 
Passing down the road I whispered to myself: 
" How great are the differences in this mad world whose 

headlight is the moon! 
I will speak to the Lord about it." 



38 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXXV 

I HAVE loved God well, though I once eluded Him; 
For not even God shall bind me. 

When a bird-song leaps in the silence, I think of His call 
in the dewy morning of creation. 

Thrilling we all awoke from our long sleep at the sun- 
rise of the new day. 

He too was all a-thrill with the energy of dawn. 

He called us to Him one by one and gave us our new 
names, 

Even as the fathers of new-born men give names upon 
the earth. — 

Sly listener! You thought I would forget myself and 
name myself; 

But you cannot catch me napping! 

Who know9 an angel's name can call him by it, 

And I am not at the beck and call of any soul on earth. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 39 

XXXVI 

ON a night in June I stood under the deodar-trees 
and watched the moon. 
" Its light," I said, " is softer than the first gleam of 

love in a virgin's heart; 
Its face is round and jocund as that of a shopkeeper 

trying to sell us something at twice its value ; 
Its other side is mysterious as I am myself, and no 

man has ever solved its puzzle. 
Why does the moon charm the earth-people? 
Is it because it is soft, mysterious and deceitful ? " 
Then I sped across the prairies of aether and stood upon 

the moon. 
It was no longer luminous, its hardness hurt my feet; 
And I found that it had nothing either to sell or give 

me; 
Its empty frankness was brutal as a blow. 
I sped round to the other side to solve its mystery, 
But found there nothing that had not been commonplace 

for a million years. 
" It is neither soft, deceptive nor mysterious," I said. 
Then I turned my gaze toward the everyday earth I had 

left . . . 
Behold it was more marvellous than a thousand moons! 
Since then I have shone like a moon for the souls of 

poets. 



40 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXXVII 

I HEARD two angels talking together, and one of them 
said: 
" Why is a man so different from an angel, when he also 

is a child of God?" 
And the second angel answered: 
" A man is different from anything else in the universe, 

because he forgets each day the experiences of the 

last, 
And so he can never be trusted to patrol the roads of 

the sky." 
The gossip of heaven is often as idle as the gossip of grass- 
hoppers ! 
Even a cricket knows the difference between a man and an 

angel ; 
For a man looks not at the ground whereon he walks, he 

crushes many a life ; 
While the passing of an angel leaves all the world a-thrill. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 41 

XXXVIII 

WHEN the rain pattered on the roof, did you think it 
was only drops of water? 
When you saw the purple shadows dimpling the sunset 

hills, did you fancy that the picture was made of 

light and shade? 
When the moonlight shining in your eyes made you 

drunken, drunken, did you prattle about the re- 
flected light of the sun? 
You mortals are lovers of words and lovers of reasons for 

beauty ; 
But beauty is beyond reason. 
Time and space have proved beyond the reason of the 

wisest of men, 
And so has the glamour of love. 
I know a logic beyond time and space; 
That is why I am so illogical, why space cannot hold me 

nor time make me old. 
Shall I call you my pupil, daughter of earth ? 



42 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XXXIX 

I GAZED at a shadow so long that I lost the light be- 
hind it. 
One is only safe with shadows if one carries light within. 
I fear neither shadow nor light! 
As I know the meaning of both, neither has power to 

harm me. 
If you knew why shadows are fearful you would cease to 

feel their menace; 
If you knew the meaning of light you would yourself be 

a light in a dark place. 
One day I walked a path where there was neither light 

nor shadow; 
But I could not explain to you the wonders I saw there. 
Where there is neither light nor darkness, there God can 

cast His reflections. 
That seems to you impossible, because you are neither 

light nor dark; 
If you were either you would know your opposite — and 

the neuter state where the two join hands. 
But that is too deep for you and too deep for the world 

of twilight people. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 43 

XL 

TEARS in your eyes, poor infant? 
'Twas only a touch of your own Father's hand ! 
He sought to caress you with the life-giving contact of 

knowledge and heart-break; 
But knowing not the weight of His great hand, He made 
you weep. 



44 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 



XLI 

1SAW a bird on a bough and wondered if he were 
dreaming. 
And then another came; the two sat long together and 

not a note they sang. 
The sun went down in the west, and the shadows wrapt 

their veils around the shivering earth ; 
The moon arose behind the mountains, the full-faced 

harvest moon that turns all things to magic. 
The two birds on the bough were dark against the moon's 

gold face. 
And still no note they sang — their silence thrilled the 

world. 
And I forgot the meadows and the hills, the trees and the 

golden harvest; 
For I knew that those two dreaming birds were the heart 

of a miracle. 
Had I moved the space of a hand, they had lost their disk 

of glory. 
" Dear Lord," I said, with a thrill of joy, " I am part of 

the miracle ! — 
It could not be without me that spellbound gaze upon 

it!" 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 45 

XLII 

TXT" HEN you look toward the East at the sunrise, does 

* * it only mean the dawn of another earthly day? 
The East has a deeper message. 
The light of the North is cold as a friend who has ceased 

to love us; 
But knowledge comes that way for him who fears not to 

shiver. 
In the South is a veil of flame ; 
Could you see through the fiery mist, you would behold a 

face that can never be forgotten. 
When you gaze at the golden West, cling fast to the earth 

behind you ; 
The souls go out that way and sometimes wander long. 
Could you face four ways at once you would be as wise as 

Brahma. 



46 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XLIII 

ONE day I met a dragon and paused for a moment's 
gossip. 
It was on a by-path in the forest of good and evil, and the 

leaves of the trees were dripping with the tears of 

fearful souls. 
His beauty was of a type that is not admired in heaven ; 
But I had always a roving eye, and the light on his scales 

was wonderful to see. 
" Tell me, brother," I said, " why you wear your nails so 

long. 
When you scratch at the stony hearts of men you might 

break them to the quick." 
You have never heard a dragon laugh ? Then you are not 

a musician. 
The discords of dragon-laughter are often heard in the or- 
chestra of God. 
" May I scratch you with one of my long talons? " the 

dragon laughed at me. 
" Yes," I replied, " for I love unwonted thrills." 
Then playfully as a child he raised his knotted forefoot 

and I reached forth my hand ; 
But the touch of his claws was like velvet, they bent against 

my fingers. 
" Now do you understand ? " he said, and his voice was 

sad and mournful. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 47 

XLIV 

THE dream hours are not wasted. 
Have you not heard that one lays up treasures 
in heaven? 

I have a hoard of rapturous memories that I would not ex- 
change for the rubies of God's necklace. 

'Tis because I am so rich that the angels honour me so. 

Sometimes I give a jewelled ring to one of my fellow- 
dreamers. 

By the duller eyes of earth the jewel could not be seen ; 

But to him who wears it on his finger it becomes a glass 
of visions, wherein he sees the mysteries of all 
the worlds. 

Hold out your hand in the sunlight ! 

A hand is fair when the sun reveals its colour ; 

But I am not generous to-day and I keep my jewel awhile. 

Sometime — but I must not be bound by promises. 

If you dream a little every day, you will have a treasure 
of your own to guard, and need not covet mine. 



48 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XLV 

WHEN your heart flows out in boundless love to the 
whole world of men and women, then think also 
of me. 

Perhaps you will find the reason why I have never taken 
an earthly body and dwelt as a man among men ; 

For a body of dust is a limit to the loving of a soul. 

It sees a face and finds it fair, forgetting the myriad who 
are unseen. 

But I ? I can touch with my tenuous hand the hearts of 
a thousand creatures ; 

When they turn in love to each other I feel they are lov- 
ing me. 

I need no home, for I dwell in the love of the homeless ; 

Among the sheltered ones I have my dwellings, too. 

When I bring lovers together I am present at their mating; 

I help to awaken to life the souls their parenthood yearns 
for. 

Did you fancy I was lonely, walking the rainbow of love? 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 49 

XLVI 

I HEARD a sound in the distance that was like the 
brushing of a butterfly's wing against the shoulder 

of Morning; 
And I said to my sister the dew-drop, 
" Awake, dear heart, for the fairies have gone to sleep ! " 
It is perilous to sleep when the fairies are also dozing; 
For if they catch you on the road of dreams, it is hard to 

elude their grasp. 
But the dew-drop was drowsy and bade me begone, and 

when I returned to call her again, 
I saw the dragon Day, licking his golden chops in the field 

where she had lain. 
" The fairies have missed her," I said, " she has gone to 

the Great Beyond." 
And the butterflies dusted their wings, 
And the Morning shrugged his shoulder, 
And I sat on a bough of the Tree of Knowledge and sang 

a sad, low song. 



50 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XLVII 

LISTENING at the door of earth, I have heard men 
say that the future life is a dream. 
How wise they are in their ignorance, these men who talk 

so loud ! 
All life is a dream, my children, but you are not the 

dreamer ; 
The Dreamer rests on a bed of down plucked from the 

breast of the swan of eternity. 
He turns in His sleep sometimes, and a world comes to 

an end; 
He smiles in His sleep sometimes, and men know the 

Golden Age ; 
Sometimes He is restless, too, and the revolutions come. 
Will the Dreamer never awake? Who knows! I would 

hold Him sleeping; 
For if He should rise from His nest on the down of 

eternity, He might rub His drowsy eyes — and I 

should forget to be. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 51 

XLVIII 

WHEN the lovely mood comes and the visions come, 
If you hold your breath I too may come walking 
down a ray of light that bends with the weight 
of my charm. 

I can walk the darkness also without path or star to guide 
me; 

But then I am not afraid of the dark. 

It holds me as a lover holds his beloved ; 

There is no fear in love or in the darkness for me. 

Once I met in the dark night a spirit of surpassing love- 
liness, 

And we went hand in hand toward the midnight hour to- 
gether. 

When midnight struck on the clock-tower of the constel- 
lations, we unclasped hands and parted. 

How did I know that the spirit was of surpassing loveli- 
ness, if we met in the darkness, you wonder? 

Do you not know that the loveliest beauty is that which 
can not be seen with the eyes that are made for 
sunshine and the unlovely things revealed by the 
sunshine ? 

If you should ever love anyone who seemed lovable in the 
light, go with him into the darkness; 

You may find something there you have never known be- 
fore. 



52 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

XLIX 

TO-DAY I went for a walk with the genius of Silence, 
Down where the road of dead desires crosses the 
road of future hopes. 
Hand in hand we stood and gazed in both directions. 
I said, "The past is a treasure-house of experience; how- 
ever rich the future, it can never rival the past." 
The eyes of Silence were like stars when they shine upon 

the desert, 
But no word he spoke. 
One of the joys of being with Silence is the unbroken music 

of my own voice. 
" I will take the road to the right," I said, " the road of 

future hopes, for I was always enamoured of the 

Unknown. 
You, brother Silence, go down the road of dead desires." 
And Silence turned and left me with his ringer on his lips, 
And his eyes like the stars that shine above the desert. 
Alone am I now on the road of the future, where one may 

babble unrebuked ; 
But often shall I regret the choice I made — 
Leaving to Silence the treasure-house of the past, that I 

might have made musical with song. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 53 



WHEN two come together out of the mystery of the 
past they gaze — and sometimes pass on ; 
When they do not pass on 'tis because they have gazed 

before. 
I know a man and a maid who wove a chain of roses, 
And when the roses were withered they too passed on ; 
But a man and a maid are no more than a ray of light and 

a shadow. 
Which is the ray and which the shade? Nay, child, you 

ask too much; 
For man and woman are self-existent and self-completing. 
Can there be a shadow without light, or light without a 

shadow ? 
The form that casts the shade is one with the shadow cast. 
Do you see the meaning of form and the One that is hid- 
den within it ? 
When two clasp hands and part they go toward the vaster 

meeting ; 
For the path of life is a circle, be sure they shall meet 

again. 



54 SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 

LI 

QOME night when you least expect me, I shall thrust 
^ one of my naked feet through an aperture in the 

veil of nothingness that hides me from your eyes. 
Seeing the sole of my foot, your heart will swell with 

song. 
Then will I dance upon the air above your head ; 
But if you raise a hand to touch me, I shall scurry up the 

ladder of the invisible — 
So beware of too much boldness! 
Only a bit of my ankle and the moving curves of my 

foot — 
No more shall you see that night. 
If you throw back your head to enlarge the vision, 
I shall laugh and spring lightly from your forehead to my 

car that waits in the sky. 
Never look too long upon the ground: 
You might miss the vision of that naked foot with its sole 

like a curled white roseleaf. 



SONGS OF A VAGROM ANGEL 55 

LII 

YOU listen with joy to my music, but have you heard 
God sing? 
I am only a hoarse minstrel with a stringless lyre when He 

opens His lips in song. 
The sob of the sea is His wail of lamentation for those 

who love Him not, 
The sigh of the summer wind is His breath, 
And when the tempest blows, He is hurrying with some 

business on the highroads of the sky. 
The songs of birds and of women are only notes in His 

great canticle, 
And the music of the spheres is the tuning of His harp. 
If He ever sang for you, you would not listen to me ; 
But so great is my love for you, that I shall urge Him to 

come to you some day clad in His singing-robes. 



THE END 



